I’ve just spent almost three weeks in the southern African country of Botswana. I was there to make a TV show, and had a thoroughly enjoyable time. The people I met in shops and the occasional bar were faultlessly courteous and engaging, as were my Botswanan work colleagues, and the staff at the hotel where I stayed for the entire length of my trip.
The streets were free of litter, and I lost count of the times that I saw lean and immaculately turned-out police officers, be they directing traffic, stopping and searching vehicles and people, or generally patrolling. Consequently, I felt safe, very safe.
Botswana is safe, clean and people are courteous - if only Britain were the same - Peter Bleksley
GB News/Getty Images
24 hours after returning home I was travelling into central London to do some media interviews. My 5.30am train from suburbia was on time, so I arrived at Charing Cross Station in a good mood.
I grabbed myself an extortionately expensive cup of coffee, and made my way towards the entrance of the underground station. I gave a wide berth to a vagrant who was grabbing herself armfuls of a freebie newspaper that is widely available in the capital, and made my way downstairs.
At the foot of the stairs I saw a clearly unfortunate soul wriggling around in a sleeping bag on the floor. A large puddle was nearby. It hadn’t been raining, besides this was undercover. I’ll leave it to your imagination to guess what the liquid probably was. Unsightly rubbish was strewn all around.
I often wonder what the authorities did to all the homeless people in the run up to the 2012 London Olympics, because you never saw a homeless person then.
Back to this week; I continued my short walk to the underground station ticket barriers, passing yet another disgusting spread of detritus that included discarded foot scraps and wrappings, drinks bottles and cans. A distinct lack of investment means that this station is outdated and tatty, but I could handle that if it wasn’t continually populated by the desperate and their accompanying filth.
Sadiq Khan continues to ignore the mindless graffiti on London's tube lines.
Getty Images
A few minutes later I was travelling on a Bakerloo Line tube train to Paddington. Revolting, unsightly, mindless graffiti was sprayed throughout the carriage on doors, floors and the ceiling. I was paying a small fortune to be surrounded by such ghastly scrawl. I got my phone out and made a video, because for many weeks I’ve been bringing this issue to the attention of the Mayor of London Sadiq Khan, Transport for London, and British Transport Police.
Appallingly, nothing has happened. I wish a plague on all their houses. A fellow passenger turned to me and said, ‘It’s got worse, thank you for highlighting this.’
At Paddington railway station I side-stepped a huge splurge of vomit, and with what was now a heavy heart, I made my way to the TV studio.
A couple of hours later at London Bridge Station, I shoved a few quid into the collection bucket being shaken by representatives of the homeless charity Crisis. Part of me wondered if I was wasting my money, because I see homeless people throughout London on a daily basis, but hey-ho, I live in hope.
On the train home I pondered my time in Botswana. Like all countries it has its problems, but most of those revolve around trying to grow its economy, in order that it can develop and modernise.
Their streets are not filthy and unsightly. Their people are not stabbing one another on a daily basis. But before you all rush to find it on a map and research property prices in that wonderful country, please be warned; Just like the UK they recently elected a former human rights lawyer as their leader, and we all know how that is working out for us. Sigh.
